A Series of Unfortunate Events
by beautyfrompain
Summary: Herein lies the story of Arrianna and Joseph, whose lives have taken a drastic turn for the worse since their guardian's disappearance. With each situation worse than the last, can they flee a dangerous criminal and uncover their unknown past? All OCs, AU
1. The Perilous Prologue

The Perilous Prologue

* * *

It started some time ago, on a June 29, the day the twins were born. Blaire Cunningham, had been facing illness for months, and the midwife was surprised that the woman had anywhere near the strength needed to birth twins. In the chalet where the birth was taking place, Blair was sweating profusely, brown hair sweaty and plastered to her head, and looked much weaker than before. After what seemed like millennia, it was done with, and the mother collapsed against the pillows behind her, strength ebbing. Claire Dotts, the midwife, insisted that she rest, but Blair ignored her, instead asking to hold her newborn children. They both knew that she didn't have the strength to live for much longer, and so the midwife gave in to her request. Mrs. Cunningham cradled one baby in each arm, and looked at them with tears in her eyes. She smiled at her just-birthed daughter, bright eyes closing and cute button nose scrunching up in a yawn. She laughed quietly at her beautiful baby boy, wriggling in her arms, red face agitated. She breathed in and considered that she might never live to see her children grow up. Sad as the thought made her, she knew it was truer than anything else. She had known it when she had been diagnosed year ago, and she knew it now.

Blaire let her mind wander to her husband, out to the shops to get more pain medicine and some diapers. He had left shortly before she began to dilate, and still wasn't back yet. She wondered whether he would come back in time to say goodbye one last time. She turned her mind back to her children. What sort of life would they have without her, without a mother? She regretted that she had to die before she could raise them properly.

"My Arrianna, my Joseph, don't ever dare forget your mother," she said, half to herself, her body shaking with a new wave of emotion. Ms. Dotts took Joseph from her hands; he was in dire need of changing. When the midwife looked back at Blaire, she had fallen asleep with her daughter in her arms.

The Cunninghams were filthy rich. Most of the wealth came from Mrs. Cunningham's very successful side of the family, whom happened to own a majority of factories across Europe. Mr. Cunningham was an accountant, but earned quite a lot more than the average. The couple lived lavishly; Blaire Cunningham was known throughout London for the parties she threw at their mansion in the city. Although the Cunninghams were widely known, very few knew that Blaire was pregnant (and she preferred to keep it so). To ensure privacy, they had chosen to make a temporary move to their German chalet, and only a few trusted friends knew where they had gone. The couple had planned to come back to London in a couple of weeks.

It was about an hour after Blaire had fallen asleep that the midwife called the doctor for the twins' checkup. He arrived within fifteen minutes to ensure that the babies were healthy. After checking every aspect of the babies' help, he declared them fine. He then glanced at the mother, whom of which still had yet to wake.

"How long has she been sleeping?" The doctor asked the midwife.

"A little over an hour," she answered.

The doctor checked Mrs. Cunningham next. He felt for a pulse and found none; his stethoscope found no brighter results. He bent over to hear that she wasn't breathing. Her waxy face portrayed epitome of fatigue.

"The woman is-,"

"Dead? It's to be expected. She was ill, and only had so much time left."

"Where is the father?"

Ms. Dotts bent over the babies in their crib, asleep as well. "He left hours ago, and never returned."

They immediately tried to contact Mr. Cunningham, only to find that he had died in a car accident. The Cunningham's lawyer and close friend, Mr. Paul Blunt, took charge of finding the twins a proper home. At this, Mr. Blunt searched for family members willing to take care of two orphaned children, until an unheard-of aunt gladly accepted them into her home. For almost thirteen years she diligently took care of Arrianna and Joseph.

And almost thirteen years later, the twins began a horrible life running from treachery. They were quite smart, somewhat innocent and had very pleasant facial features. Arrianna and Joseph Cunningham were also very, very unlucky. Their story begins in the rainy streets of southern London.


	2. The Bad, Bad Beginning

A/N: I don't believe I mentioned this in the prologue, but I'm rewriting ASOUE. It's mostly in the beginning, but I'm changing the events, and some of the names. So if you've read the story before and are wondering about the changes, that's why. I'm doing it chapter by chapter, so you might find that some chapters are rewritten are some are not. So bear with me!

~beautyfrompain

* * *

Chapter One: The Bad, Bad Beginning

* * *

Arrianna Cunningham looked out her window to the bleak, rainy streets. It was one of the most boring days she had ever experienced, sitting inside staring out the window, with absolutely nothing to do. There was only so much one could do on a rainy day, anyway, and it had been raining for several days straight. Each day, the same song: Staring at the streets, watching the rain pour down in sheets.

"You might think the sun would come out sometime," she commented to her brother, Joseph.

Joseph came to her at the window and peeked out at the disheartening view. "You sound irritable," he said, half - joking. "Y'know, there's better things to do than stare out a window all day."

Arrianna frowned. "Like what? I've run out of things to do a long time ago." She wasn't usually one to whine, but the continuous rain couldn't help but get to her, and it was only midmorning.

"Want to play checkers with me?"

She gave him a half-smile. "I suppose a game or two couldn't hurt."

Of course, Joseph was her identical twin. They shared the same features: wavy brown hair, fair skin, brown eyes, aristocratic noses. Neither of them had grown up with a parent. Their guardian, Mrs. Underwood, said they had both died at their birth, which was unfortunate. Mrs. Underwood had raised them instead, and they called her "aunt" (though no one would know if she was really their aunt or not). She had been a widow when she had claimed the twins after their parents had passed away, and had been with them since.

They were in the middle of a quite heated game when Mrs. Underwood called them from downstairs. Leaving the board, they came down the stairs to see what she needed them for. They found her in the kitchen, up to her elbows in soapsuds.

"Arrianna, Joseph, would you mind going to the shops for me? I need some extra things for lunch, and I have some housework I must finish before then."

"Of course we'll go for you, aunt," replied Joseph. He took the shopping list from the refrigerator door and the money Mrs. Underwood held out to him, and they put on their raincoats and rubber boots before setting out in the pour.

* * *

The streets were wet and muddy, and it took much longer than it usually would have to collect all the ingredients on the list. Almost two hours later, Arrianna and Joseph trudged their way back to the house with bags of food occupying their hands and arms. After setting the bags down and taking off their raincoats, they noticed that the house was unnaturally quiet. Off to look for Mrs. Underwood, they searched the ground floor before finding the back door wide open. There was a large puddle by the door, and rain was pouring through the open door. Arrianna closed the door and cleaned up the mess as Joseph searched the upstairs, and then the cellar.

"She isn't here," Joseph told her when he came back.

"Maybe she went out?"

"It's possible, I guess."

So they waited for her to come home. The house was already immaculate, the dishes put up, every surface clean. When lunch came, Joseph raided the refrigerator and found sandwiches in the back. They finished their game of checkers and started several more, and evening came and went. It was dark outside when Arrianna peeked out the front window again. The rain had slowed slightly, but Mrs. Underwood was still missing.

"She's still not back," she told her brother, slouching into a couch. "She wouldn't have any reason to be out for this long, Joseph. She's been gone for several hours, and she still hasn't returned."

Joseph picked at a spot in the arm of the chair he was sitting in. "You don't really think she's gone missing." This wasn't so much a question as a statement.

"She would never leave for so long and not leave a note or something."

"Maybe she got held up by the rain?"

"Since morning? She should have come back by now if she had left the house, or called if she somehow couldn't!"

They were quiet for a while, lost in their own thoughts. The silence in the house was deafening, and after another hour Joseph called the police to file a report.

Fifteen minutes after he hung up, a police car showed up in the driveway. Joseph opened the door for the policeman, and Arrianna rose from her seat. Once ushered into the living room and to a chair, he pulled out a notebook and started asking questions.

"You said that someone went missing?" He inquired, pen poised.

"Yes, our aunt disappeared several hours ago and never returned," Arrianna told him.

"What are your names?"

"My name is Joseph, and this is my sister, Arrianna. We're twins." As the detective eyed them, Joseph fidgeted.

"So I can see. And what is the name of the aunt of yours, whom you say has disappeared?"

"Her name is Willa Underwood, sir."

"Right. And when was the last time you saw Ms. Willa Underwood?"

"We last said goodbye right before she sent us off to the shops, several hours ago. When we came back a while later, we found the house empty and the back door wide open. We worried when she still hadn't returned a several hours afterwards, and decided to call the police."

"Right." The officer wrote down a few more notes in his book before closing it and fixing the twins with yet another piercing stare. "Well, if your aunt fails to show up within another twenty-four hours, you kids come down to the station and request for Robert Burr. I will make sure to personally file a missing person report."

Arrianna and Joseph agreed, politely thanked the police officer, and saw him to the door. Exhausted and still worried deeply for their missing aunt, they headed off to bed.

* * *

The next day showed a break from the ongoing streak of rain. It was a much-welcomed change, but one that somehow irked Arrianna worse than the rain. How could even the skies be sunny and bright, when her aunt was missing? Another nerve - racking day passed, without their guardian's return. The morning following, Joseph and Arrianna walked down to the police station.

In the waiting room, the man at the desk eyed them. "What's your business here?"

"Um, we're here for Officer Robert Burr? Our aunt went missing a few days ago, and he said to come here if she didn't return," Arrianna told him.

He sent a message, and within a few minutes Officer Burr motioned the twins to follow him. Arrianna and Joseph were led to his small office space, where they sat down in chairs facing his desk. The officer typed something into his computer and closed a window before turning his attention back to them.

"I take it that your aunt hasn't returned?"

"No sir."

The twins again recounted the situation to the officer, and he wrote a missing person report for Mrs. Underwood.

"Do you know anyone who would be able to take care of you under such a short notice?" He asked once he had finished and filed the report.

They thought hard. "Our parent's executor makes sure we find a good home," Arrianna finally volunteered.

The officer furrowed his brow wit confusion. "Why would I hand you kids over to a professional murderer?"

Joseph shook his head. "No, no, an executor is the person appointed by a testator to execute a will. Ms. Brett makes sure our parent's will is carried out correctly."

"Oh, that's fine, then. Do you have Ms. Brett's number?"

They did not, so the officer accompanied them to their vacant house. The number was found soon enough, and the executor was called. Ms. Brett reluctantly agreed to take care of them until another home was found, and they were scheduled to take a train to Singapore a few days after. Until then, they were left to wait at Mrs. Underwood's house, with the promise to call the station if there was any other trouble.

* * *

Four days later, Brae Brett showed up on their doorstep, clad in a formal blue business suit. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she peered at them through the glasses perched on her straight nose.

"So _you_ are the Cunningham twins," she finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes ma'am," Joseph replied.

"I am Brae Brett, as I'm sure you must know, although it's Ms. Brett to you. As your parents' executor, it is my job to ensure that you find yourself in a safe environment, as it is loosely stated in the will. Until I can find a suitable home, you will be staying in my house in Germany." She stated all of this in a stiff and formal manner, as if it had been rehearsed beforehand. She looked at her wristwatch and sighed, rising from her perch on the edge of the living room couch. "I suppose we must go now, if we are to catch our eleven o'clock train. Have you all your belongings packed?"

They did, and Ms. Brett drove them to the train station. They boarded the train, and they were soon off to Singapore, Germany.

"I am a very busy woman, so I ask you not to run, throw things, make loud noises, mess with the antiques, or disrupt me from my work in any way. Don't mess around in any of the closed-off rooms, though you may go in the library."

Arrianna and Joseph had arrived in Singapore less than an hour earlier, though they had just entered Ms. Brett's house a while ago. She had insisted on having a word with them before they unpacked, and lay down the house rules.

"I am usually out of the house on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and dinner is at six, every night, on the dot. I'll find you a permanent home soon enough, so don't become too comfortable. It's four o'clock now, so that will give you about two hours to unpack and freshen up before dinner. Are there any questions?"

There weren't any, and the twins were dismissed. Suddenly, the simple days with Mrs. Underwood seemed very far away.

* * *

Though it was a very different experience for Arrianna and Joseph, they soon adapted to living with Ms. Brett. The twins had only packed the necessities, and left any sort of entertainment. The executor was gone half the time, leaving them to a big, unfamiliar house. During the day, they explored the German house and visited Ms. Brett's library. Arrianna found delight in reading some of the history books, picking up various pieces of information and even a little bit of German along the way. They soon became used to being left alone in the big house, and found various things to do to pass the time.

It was two long weeks later when Ms. Brett brought up a new possibility at the dinner table. Clearing her throat and breaking the quiet, she began,

"As you know, I've been looking for a place for you to live for two weeks now. Fortunately, I have finally found a proper guardian willing to take the place of your missing aunt." Joseph cringed at the thought of his aunt's disappearance. "Well, I have found him at last. He was a distant relative on your mother's side, Mr. Edward Morphe. He's an actor, and he lives back in London, not too far from your former guardian's house. I have already scheduled that you meet with him in a week."

"But why must we leave so soon?" Joseph protested. To be honest, he didn't want to leave now that he felt so comfortable with living at Ms. Brett's house. "We haven't even met him yet!"

"You will have _plenty _of time to meet the man when we get there. I would rather get you off my hands as soon as possible, as so I can get back to my schedule right away. Besides, I've already gone at set everything up. Things are final now."

The conversation died away to the sound of chinaware clinking together and silence. Arrianna and Joseph were only left to hope that this Morphe fellow would be a nice man, of whom would take good care of them.

But then again, we all know that that's not likely.


	3. Of First Impressions and Evil Plans

Chapter Two: Of First Impressions and Evil Plans

Ms. Brett knocked five times on the door with the rusty door knocker and lectured Arrianna and Joseph.

"Now, remember to be nice and charming, and don't mess this up. We should just all be happy that the nice man is willing to take you. Now, if I have to come back here, I'll-"

She stopped abruptly and put on a forced smile (one of which ended up looking unused, unpracticed, as somewhat painful) as the door to Edward Morphe's house opened.

The outside of the house looked shabby and squalid, and the paint on the front door was faded and peeling. The house looked like it was barely supported, leaning to one side, and the top loomed over them.

They had just gotten off the train a few hours ago, which had been very boring and uneventful.

Afterwards, they had taken a cab to Mr. Morphe's house, bringing them to their current situation. A very peculiar man examined them from the doorway, and the twins saw their new guardian.

Mr. Morphe was thin and spidery. He was dressed in a patched gray velvet suit, and his left eye was scrunched up to keep the monocle in front of it, and was as dangerously bright as the right. His head was balding, wherever it wasn't his dirty white hair showed in tufts. His back was hunched, and he towered over Arrianna and Joseph with superlative height.

"So_ these_ are the twins," he stated in what seemed the most common way to greet Arrianna and Joseph yet. His voice was British, but it was incredibly raspy, and the most sinister voice either of the twins had ever heard.

"Yes, these are Arrianna and Joseph Cunningham," Ms. Brett answered. "If you have any problems, the children know my number."

Mr. Morphe's expression brightened. "Cunningham, you say?" He eyed the twins once more, the wheels in his mind already turning. "I can heartily assure you that they won't be needed to call."

She leaned down to speak in Arrianna and Joseph's ears. "And for the sake of all that's good in holy," she told them in a low voice, "I beg the Lord that you won't ever need to call." She straightened up and put back on her forced grimace. "Now, be good," she admonished, holding their shoulders in a death grip as she pushed them toward Mr. Morphe. Then she practically sprinted to the waiting cab, without so much a good bye.

Arrianna turned to Joseph. "I had no idea Ms. Brett was even slightly religious," she commented.

Joseph didn't have much time to answer, as Mr. Morphe immediately grabbed their arms tightly, as if he expected them to run away. Without either greeting or pleasantries (though it was in question whether this man was even aware of how to be pleasant), he pushed them into the house, which turned out to be much messier than the outside.

The living space was unorganized, with everything strewn all over the floors and surfaces. There were a few dirty books looming in cluttered corners, there was dust on the furniture, and dust motes danced in the sunbeams and cluttered the air. The house smelled dusty and slightly moldy, and the paint on the walls an unpleasant yellow. The rooms felt small and cramped, maybe because of the junk shoved in every spare corner and thrown over every empty space. Arrianna and Joseph could only follow along as Edward Morphe tugged them along, through room after room.

He finally stopped in yet another cramped room, though bigger than the others. It was furnished with a few overstuffed chairs and several leaning stacks of books near the walls, along with a few bookshelves (though holding not quite as many books as the floor did). If it had to have been guessed what purpose this room served, it might have been said to be a library. Mr. Morphe sat in a dirty chair behind an unstable desk (unstable as one of the legs were loose), and gestured to the small couch opposite the chair he was sitting in. Arrianna and Joseph hesitantly sat on it, but did not get too comfortable on the scratchy fabric.

When he did not make any ventures at conversation, Arrianna hesitantly said, "How do you do, Mr. Morphe?"

Their new but creepy guardian laughed a hoarse, sinister laugh. "'How do you do', she asks! How positively charming of you." Then he abruptly stopped and peeked at them through his thick monocle with his shiny, shiny eyes. "Oh, what humorous things children are. If you are going to be living with me, you should know more about me," he stated. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes before continuing on.

"I happen to be an actor, under the stage name Count Vanir. Though I am wanted all over the world because of my various talents, I prefer to hide away from the rest of the world for my own reasons. I have always wanted children, but have never before had any." Edward Morphe smiled at the twins in a manner that he meant to be pleasant. He had failed. "Please excuse the living conditions, but as I said before, I prefer not to bring attention to myself."

"Er, it's all swell, Mr. Morphe," said Joseph hesitantly. "My name is Joseph Cunningham, and this is my twin sister Arrianna."

Edward Morphe chuckled again, throwing his head back in laughter. "Brilliant, positively brilliant!" He exclaimed to the ceiling. "Please, call me Count Vanir. I prefer to stay in character."

He extended a bony hand to Arrianna and Joseph, knocking over a small jar in the process. Mr. Morphe and Arrianna reached for it at the same time, but he hurried over to their side of the desk, insisting, "No, no, child, I've got it!" As he bent over to retrieve the container, the back of his neck was exposed for just a moment. From his position, Joseph could see part of an image tattooed on their new guardian's neck, and he leaned forward as far as he could to get a full view. Just before Mr. Morphe rose with the container, Joseph saw the tattoo in its entirety: it was an eye.

As Mr. Morphe got up, Joseph scrambled back to his seat. Edward Morphe placed the jar back on his desk. "Let me show you up to your room," he offered.

He brought them up a narrow stairwell to another floor, leaving them to a single room, furnished with two lumpy cots, two small dressers (both with one or two peeling drawers missing), dirty curtains covering the cracked, smudged windows, the same yellow peeling paint on the walls, a slightly mildewed grey carpet, and little room for anything else.

Their new guardian did little to hide his smirk as the twins viewed their room with dismay. "I hope you enjoy your stay," he called as he made his way down the hallway.

Arrianna threw her suitcase into an empty corner and fell back onto the closest bed, causing a cloud of dust to emit from the lumpy mattress. Sitting up with a jolt, she coughed. "This can_not _be hygienic," she wheezed, choking on the dirt-filled air.

Covering up his nose with the collar of his shirt, Joseph joined his sister (making sure to be careful sitting down).

"Things aren't looking so good," he finally commented, after thoroughly examining the room.

Arrianna sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What's that stench? I miss Mrs. Underwood."

"There's not much point in that. She's disappeared, and, though I would give anything to have things back to normal, we're here now."

"It's a shame," Arrianna replied. "I have a bad feeling about our new guardian."

"He does seem a bit strange. I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions too quickly, but he has a tattoo of an eye on the back of his neck."

"I find it all a bit peculiar. And would it kill him to do a bit of household cleaning?"

Thankfully, their new guardian wasn't around much, saving them the struggle to avoid him. Unfortunately, he left the job of household cleaning to Arrianna and Joseph. Every morning he left out a note on the kitchen counter, giving them difficult chores to do, some of which involved cleaning the filthy house. There would be two bowls of cold, overcooked porridge, and every night they would be responsible of cooking dinner for Count Vanir's raucous theatre troupe, which consisted of five people: a muscled man with four scars across his face; a tall, bald man with a long, beak - like nose and a stump for a right arm; a pretty, glamorous woman with dark hair and expensive - looking clothes that appeared to be Count Vanir's girlfriend, (though the twins could not fathom why she would possibly want to be that); a thin, bony woman with short blonde hair who wore too much white powder on her face and dark red lipstick; and a very fat person who could not be distinguished as either a man or a woman.

It was during one of these infamous dinners, about a month after the twins had arrived, when Arrianna and Joseph finally learned some very interesting information about their guardian. They were passing around the main course, and everyone was already so drunk that they hardly knew what they were doing.

"So, Vanir, I have noticed two certain brats running around lately," the muscled man said loudly, spilling a bit of wine on himself. "When did you become such a family man?" He then burst into loud, booming laughter, throwing the rest of the glass down his throat and beckoning for more.

Count Vanir laughed just as loudly. "Ah, the Cunningham twins! Not only are they brats, but heirs of a very large fortune!"

The bald man with the beak nose's eyes became wide. "_The _Cunningham twins? As in, the spawn of those blasted Cunninghams?"

"That's right, my good man! They're the last of the line, and I don't think they have a damned clue. I took the chance as soon as it came, and now the brats are mine, along with their fortune! It's only a matter of time, after I set the wheels of my plan spinning. The time has almost come!"

The glamorous girlfriend, sprawled all over Count Vanir in quite an inappropriate fashion, was just as boisterous as the rest. "Tell us all about this master plan!" By this time, Arrianna and Joseph had finished passing out the dinner, though no one had noticed it yet. They now stood in the kitchen, near the doorway, listening.

Count Vanir laughed again. "It's brilliant! The brats cannot have their money until they are of age, but I have concocted a brilliant and foolproof plan to get around that!"

"Tell us more! Tell us more!" chanted the drunken group.

"So I shall! I go to the States in a week, on 'business'! In New Hampshire, a girl of thirteen may marry with parental consent! Of course, as their guardian I may do whatever I please."

The man with the beak - like nose and a hook for a hand chuckled. "You mean to marry the female brat!"

"Indeed! I have no one to stand in my way, once I have that fortune!"

"Brilliant!" crowed the glamorous girlfriend, giving their guardian a sloppy kiss. Then she paused. "But then what shall you do with them, after getting the fortune?"

Count Vanir rolled his head back, showing the whites of his eyes. "I shall do away with them, of course!" Then he laughed his evil, sinister laugh, which seemed even more sinister now.

"Marvelous," cried the woman with too much make - up. "Not only are you a talented actor, skilled, mass murderer, and brilliant arsonist, but you shall soon be very rich!"

Everyone at the table chuckled, as if they found it all very amusing. The twins backed away from the door and looked at each other with dread, their faces as white as a sheet.

"What a horrible, horrible man," Arrianna moaned.

Joseph looked back to their guardian. "We have a fortune?"

"Is that even legal?" Arrianna wondered. "I don't want to marry a fifty-year-old man!"

"I knew he was suspicious," said Joseph in a low voice. "He's had us do his chores, and now he plans to do away with us!"

"He's a serial killer, and an arsonist! Now I know what he meant when he said that he was 'wanted all over the world for his talents' and 'preferred not to bring attention to himself'. He's a criminal!"

"Just our luck. We have to find some way out of this," whispered Arrianna back, determination written all over her face. "I will _not _marry that man, especially not if he plans to steal our inheritance and kill us both!"

"Well, until we figure out a plan," Joseph whispered, "we can't do anything hasty. We can't let him know that we're on to him. We have to contact Ms. Brett immediately and tell her that we're in danger!"

"Do you really think the woman is going to believe us, Joseph? We can't rely on her to get us out of this!"

"If we know what's good for us, we're going to have to try!"

"Fine," Arrianna gave in. "But I doubt if she'll help us. I can guarantee that she'll believe making it up."

"Well, we have to try. It's our only hope!"

"I sure hope not," Arrianna muttered.


	4. A Most Abrupt Escape

_**Disclaimer: Though all the characters and some situations are mine, Lemony Snicket owns any plots and character personalities that coincide with his story.**_

*********

Arrianna and Joseph looked for a payphone in the store the next day, when they were at the store buying the makings of the night's dinner. When they finally discovered one, they dialed Ms. Shingleheemer, and waited until she picked up.

"Hello?"

"It's Joseph and Arrianna."

"I don't know any ... oh, it's you. Children, as you know, I am very busy--"

"Ms. Shingleheemer, we're in trouble! Our new guardian is a highly dangerous criminal, and his real name is Count Vanir. He plans to take us on a trip to a far off land next week in order to marry Arrianna and get our fortune, and then do away with us. He's crazy, a serial killer and arsonist, and--"

"Look, _children_, I am very busy and have no time for this. Stop being silly, why would he be a highly dangerous criminal?"

"Why _wouldn't _he be?"

"Look, the man is nice enough. Where did you hear this folly, anyway?"

"We overheard him talking with his theatre troupe and--"

"So, you see, Edward Morphe is an actor. He was probably practicing his lines for some play--"

"There is no way that this was for some play, and his name is Count Vanir. He made up that Edward Morphe thing to throw anyone trailing him off his tracks!"

"Look, I'm sorry, children, but I have no time for this. I can't just whisk you away because you have an irrational suspicion that that your new guardian is a criminal. Now, he was probably playacting the whole time. He could have been playacting when he told you his name was Count Vanir. He could have been merely playacting when you were eavesdropping and overheard that he was going to whisk you away and marry Arrianna. And so, therefore, no reason to be suspicious. Now I have to go attend to some business."

"But--"

Then the line disconnected. Joseph set the phone down and looked sadly at Arrianna.

"She didn't believe us," he stated mournfully.

Arrianna sighed. "I knew she wouldn't. Well, I guess this means that we have to take on this man ourselves."

"Using _what _exactly?" Joseph retorted.

"Well, our brains, for one thing. It's time to think."

*********

"Children, in five days I will take you along on a business trip," Count Vanir rasped in his sinister voice. He sat across from them at the wobbly dinner table, where he had had the three of the sit down together for dinner. It was something that he had never even thought to do during the whole time time the twins had stayed with him.

Of course, Arrianna and Joseph were both painfully aware of this so called 'business trip', and what business their evil guardian hoped to take care of. It had been roughly two weeks since the night when they had overheard Count Vanir's evil plan. They had thought about their situation thoroughly, and desperately tried to find any way to stop the gruesome event from occurring. Unfortunately, they had come up with nothing. Joseph gulped.

"Why so soon?" he asked nervously.

Their guardian flashed them a sinister smile. "Well, we would want to make room for anything inconvenient to come up, now would we?" The evil grin sent shivers down the children's spines.

In a moment of bravery, Arrianna stood up defiantly. "You know, we know all about your plans," she blurted. As soon as she had, her heart began to fill with dread.

She had just waved away the only advantage they had had over the turn of events.

Arrianna and Joseph watched as Count Vanir's smirk grew impossibly wider. To their surprise, this fact did not seem to daunt the evil man, but instead amuse him.

"Oh, do you?" he rasped, raising a bushy, dirty, white eyebrow.

"Um, yes?" Arrianna peeped, suddenly very afraid.

Count Vanir let out a throaty, scratchy giggle. Before she knew what was happening, he was across the table, holding a rather sharp dinner knife to Joseph's throat.

"Look here, little girl," he seethed. "You brats will _not _ruin my plans. If things go wrong, you'll soon be sibling-less, do you understand? I have no problem whatsoever with slitting his throat, and I only need you to carry things out, after all. So, unless you want to be responsible for your brother's death, things will go perfect, five days from now. Have I yet made myself clear?"

Arrianna was scared. She closed her eyes, tears gathering under her lids, and took a deep breath.

"Terribly."

*********

After 'dinner', Joseph had been locked away in a room, tied to a chair with a gag to prevent him from speaking. The henchman who could not be distinguished as either a man or a woman, whose name was revealed to be Revvin, guarded the room. Arrianna was only allowed to visit once, the day after he had been locked up.

"What do I do?" Arrianna had whispered to him, as the person named Revvin stood guard outside. "I have to get help, but that beast threatened to kill you!"

"Just try calling Shingleheemer again," Joseph had finally told her. "Things can't possibly get any worse."

At this, she had started to cry. "But what if she doesn't help us? What is she tells him? Whatever will I do without you?!" she had sobbed quietly.

"If she doesn't help us, than we're no better off than before," he had told her. "She won't tell, she wouldn't want to have 'Morphe' give us back. And even if he does find out, then my death would have just have come sooner rather than later. You know he was going to do away with us anyway; my death will just come quicker," he reasoned.

"But it would be terribly lonely without you," she told him. "And I don't want to be responsible for your death!"

"But promise me that you'll try," Joseph said, stubborn. "You have to. It's our last chance to fix this."

Before she had had chance to answer, the person called Revvin had told her in an eerily deep and hollow voice, "You're time is up."

The sound had sent her shuddering, and as she was pulled away, she saw over Revvin's shoulder Joseph mouthing the words, "Promise me."

It was the last time that she had been allowed to see him.

His meals were carried up to his room, and as Arrianna laid on her bed that night, his words kept of repeating over and over in her mind.

_Promise me._

_Promise me._

_Promise me._

It made her feel worse, knowing that it was her fault that they were in this mess. If she had just kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't have had to deal with this. Why had she done it? Oh, how she regretted it now.

_Promise me._

Finally, she made her decision, in the early hours of the morning.

She would try, if only to carry out her brother's wish. She would take the risk of her brother's life to save them both.

She hoped that it was the right choice.

*********

The next day, she wasn't allowed much leverage, and was usually busied by the menial chores that she was ruthlessly assigned. The only time she had left to be able to leave the house was when she went out to go get the makings for a dinner. Even then, she was escorted by the woman who wore too much make-up. However, she did manage to sneak off when the woman was distracted by a make-up stand, where they happened to be giving free samples. It was the perfect distraction.

She soon found the same phone booth as before, and closed the door behind her before dialing the number of their cranky executor.

The phone rang quite a bit before Ms. Shingleheemer finally picked up.

"Hello?" she answered, quite annoyed.

"It's Arrianna," she offered, a bit hesitant.

"You _again! _Look, here, I don't have time for your--"

"No, _you _look! I know that you think that our concerns aren't important, but we need your help! Mr. _Morphe _doesn't care about us! He plans to whisk us away to some far-off land, where he can do whatever he wishes, and _no, he's not playacting! _I know that you think that we're being silly, but we're really not. We need you, and if you don't help us, we're going to be in danger, whether you believe it or not! We need you to come before Friday, at noon, when he plans to take us away. Please, Ms. Shingleheemer, please just believe me!"

As Arrianna waited, she heard a deep sigh coming from the other end of the line. She was getting sort of impatient. Who knew when she would be discovered?

"Fine," Ms. Shingleheemer finally relented. "Since you seem to be so adamant about this, then I will come by Friday. I still don't quite believe your rantings about the respectable Mr. Morphe, but since you continue to heed to no reason, I will come and fetch you. Perhaps we could find some other guardian to accept two highly paranoid brats."

Arrianna let out a breath that she hadn't even known that she had been holding. She had done it! They would be free!

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You don't know what you're freeing us from! You won't regret this, I promise!"

"Don't make promises that you know you can't keep," she heard the cranky lady mutter. But even Ms. Shingleheemer's jibes couldn't put down Arrianna. They would be safe after all! Now, all she had to do was make sure that they stayed out of harm before Friday.

"Now," the lady continued, still crabby as ever, "if you don't have the urge to turn in other innocent citizens, I really must go."

"Oh yes, of course. Good bye, Ms. Shingleheemer."

The line disconnected before she got farewell in return, except for this time she was almost positive that it hadn't been a mistake.

She left the payphone and went off to get thyme for dinner, humming a happy tune.

*********

The rest of the week, Arrianna felt as if she was on a deadly tightrope, walking unsteadily, trying to keep herself from falling to the deadly abyss below. She _was _walking on a thin line, and the penalty for slipping would be the death of her brother. She was a raw nerve, always jumpy. Every day she would submit to the grueling work, but even that couldn't take her mind away from their heinous situation.

She waited anxiously for Friday.

Count Vanir's henchmen were always around, watching. This did not help the situation. It felt disconcerting, always being watched.

Then, finally, it came. That day, she was filled with a mixture of feelings: happiness, because their situation was nearly over; apprehensiveness, that something would go horribly wrong; and sadness, that they were in this situation in the first place.

At noon, Arrianna finally saw her brother again, though in a horrible state. He looked so much more thinner, and his skin was pale and gaunt. His dark curly hair was disheveled, and his clothes dirty.

_It doesn't look like he was much taken care of, _Arrianna noted.

She wanted to go over and hug her twin, but she knew that it would not be allowed. So instead, when he mouthed to her, _Did you do it?, _she simply nodded and mouthed back, _She's coming._

The smile on his face was radiant.

Suddenly, Arrianna once more wasn't so sure. What if everything went wrong? What is she didn't come on time, or even at all? What is she had changed her mind? What is she had told Count Vanir?

_What if...?_

_What if...?_

_What if...?_

The possibilities were endless.

But Arrianna tried to block all the bad ones out of her head and put the most positive one in front: Ms. Shingleheemer would come it time, and they would be saved.

At noon, they were driven to the pier, where their ship would be docked. Arrianna's horrible _What_ _if_s were coming back at full speed, drowning out everything else. She barely noticed the thick, cold fog in the air.

The twins were forced out of the car, and they were just about to board the ship (early, so "Nothing inconvenient will have the chance to occur,"), when...

"Now, Mr. Morphe, I am sorry, but I will have to stop you right there."

Arrianna had never been so happy to hear ms. Shingleheemer's cranky voice. Joseph looked pretty relieved, as well.

As the woman walked out of the fog, Count Vanir let out a cry of rage. He bent down to Arrianna's level, and she shied away from his sour breath as he growled,

"You must be itching to leave this country as an only orphan, brat. I told you that if anything went wrong, there would be consequences." He nodded toward Ms. Shingleheemer. "And to me, that looks like a pretty big threat. Now, your brother will have to pay the price!"

With one bound, he had a knife to Joseph's throat. He called to their executor, "Leave and go back where you've come from, or the boy brat dies!"

Ms. Shingleheemer was speechless. Unfortunately, that was very bad in this situation. Count Vanir was just about to press the knife farther into Joseph's throat, when an alarm suddenly cut through the air, from around the corner. Count Vanir dropped the knife and backed away, something akin to fear written all over his face. It took a second for Arrianna to register the sounds through the shock she was feeling.

Police alarms.

Count Vanir and his henchmen, who had followed them to the dock, all froze and backed away.

Then, they ran.

Joseph, Arrianna, and Ms. Shingleheemer were speechless as the six ran away from the sirens. When they had finally registered the peril, they were long gone, and so were the police, which had rounded the corner without ever knowing of the peril they had just driven past.

"But ... that man ... he ... he had a knife ... why ... ?" Ms. Shingleheemer spluttered.

"I told you that we were in danger," Arrianna finally said, her voice shaky.

"But why would Mr. Morphe run away from the sound of sirens?" she asked.

"We told you, his name is Count Vanir and he's on the run from the police," Joseph said, impatiently.

Ms. Shingleheemer shook her head. "Yes, yes. Come back with me, children."

With that, they all piled into the woman's drab car. They were driving away when a thought came to Arrianna. She turned to Joseph.

"Joseph, we're thirteen now," she mused.

"We are? Huh. I forgot all about it, with our situation and all," he thought.

"Yes, I did, too."

Then,

"Arrianna?"

"Yes?"

"I hope that our next guardian won't be quite so horrible."

"Yes," Arrianna said, wistfully. "I do, too."

It was the end of the beginning, but it felt more like the beginning of the end...

*********

_**A/N: Well, there you have it, the end of the beginning. What did you think? That last part was a bit close. It gives a whole 'nother meaning to the phrase, 'saved by the bell'! Well, review!**_

_*********_


	5. The Many Forms of Blatant Evil

_**Disclaimer: I own this fic, but not the overall plot. All the characters belong to me.**_

_*********_

Arrianna and Joseph were apprehensive as Ms. Shingleheemer knocked on the door to the small villa of their new guardian. It had been two weeks since they had last seen Count Vanir fleeing from the police, and Ms. Shingleheemer had finally found an aunt (three times removed) willing to take them. She lived in Venice, Italy, and already life seemed to be looking up. The villa was perched on top of a rocky cliff overlooking the sea. Upon looking over the edge, it was determined to be a very long way down.

They heard movement on the other side of the door before it opened to reveal a plump Italian lady. Her gray-speckled hair was in a messy bun, and her faded blue eyes did a once - over of the twins as she yawned, showing whitened teeth.

"What is this?" The newest guardian asked an a voice that showed irritation, heavy with an Italian accent.

"These are the children," Ms. Shingleheemer said, hurriedly, pushing Arrianna and Joseph toward her. "Sorry for my haste, but I must be leaving. I have very important business to attend to, and it took quite enough out of my busy sceduel to bring them here."

Recognition dawned on the lady's face. "Ah, yes! My bambinis. Come, children, tell me your names."

"Well," Arrianna started. "This is my twin brother, Joseph, and I'm--"

"Now, now, could we cut the pleasantries for later? I really must leave."

"Ah, yes, yes. Come with me, bambinis." The Italian aunt waddled back into the house, leaving the twins on the doorstep. They were just about to follow after her, but when the took a step they were pulled right back. Ms. Shingleheemer bent to their level, her beady eyes peircing.

"Do not mess this up, brats," she hissed, squeezing unneccessarilly hard on their arms, cutting off the circulation. Joseph and Arrianna gasped from the pain.

"I have much better and important things to do than play babysitter," she continued. "I still don't quite know what went amiss with Edward Morphe, but this game of pretend will not continue, do you understand?"

Before they could answer, she let go of their arms and scurried to her still - running car. "I have a meeting," she called to them, getting in. "I hope that this is the last time that we wil have to meet."

And with that, their executor was gone, leaving to face their new home.

"Children?" A call came from far into the house.

Joseph breathed in. "Well," he announced, stepping through the doorway. "Time to see our new home."

They found their new guardian in the kitchen, sifting through the food. When she heard them enter, the room, she turned around and smiled.

"Ah, yes, there you are, my bambinis. Would you like a little lunch?"

Arrianna and Joseph nodded. "Yes, thank you," Arrianna answered, politely.

"Go wait in the dining room," she instructed. Upon a quick search, they found the dining room in the room over.

"I am your aunt, Flora. I have had this house for ten long years." She called, clambored through the kitchen. She finally came out, holding a rather large pot.

"Is soup good?"

"It'll do fine."

"You see children, I get very lonely here in big Italy," their Aunt Flora explained, dipping the soup into bowls. "I rarely get any company. So, when I heard that my distant neice and nephew were in need of a new home, I jumped at the chance." She put the bowls of cold soup in front of them, sitting down at the table.

"Ma'am?" Joseph ventured uncertainly after giving the soup a taste.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you plan to reheat this? It's still quite cold."

Their aunt shook her head. "No, no, these new contraptions are dangerous."

"Pray tell, why?" Arrianna asked, somewhat incredulous.

"This stove, these telephones, they are all very dangerous. They cause harm. My husband, he died in a fire caused my electricity." She pushed up the long sleeves of her dress and pointed to the scarred flesh.

"You see these scars? They got caused by the fire. I barely got out alive!" Their new guardian exclaimed. "This accident happened fifteen years ago. So, now, I am very careful with these appliances. If I don't they will burst in fire and harm again, yes?"

"How come you never got married again?" Arrianns asked after a long silence.

"I never felt compelled to. Even if I did, no one could ever replace my Charles. Though, as I said before it did get lonely by myself. All the company I had was my manservant, Alfonso, who takes after the house for me. You might see him quite a bit during your stay here."

After this, there was more silence, the only sound being the sound of the cold soup being swirled around, but not eaten.

"Could you please show us to our rooms?" Joseph finally asked, politely, pushing away the barely touched soup.

"Yes," their aunt relented. "I will now show you to your rooms."

So, they got up from the table in the and started up the staircase. They soon came upon a corridor. Aunt Flora opened two doors across from each other, and guestured to them.

"This room is for you," she announced, guesturing toward Joseph and then one of the doors, "And this one is for you," guesturing to Arrianna and the one across the hall.

The twins enterd their respective rooms and found their suitcases already on their beds.

"I will leave you to get comfortable," their guardian announced, bustling back down the staircase.

After unpacking, Arrianna went over to Joseph room and found him examining the bookcase in his room, filled with literature. He turned around to acknowledge her.

"Finished packing already?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

"Yes, not that I had much baggage in the first place. What do you think of our new guardian?"

Joseph stared at the ceiling, almost as if he were trying to solve a mystery about the slight crack there. "I don't know what to think of her," he finally admitted. "Though I do find her fear of new inventions somewhat irrational. What happened once was probably only an accident after all."

"Yes, but I can see why she would be afraid of electrical things, especially if an electrical fire caused the death of her husband," Arrianna pointed out.

"But she uses the light caused by the lightbulbs in her kitchen, which could be just as dangerous, if dangerous at all," Joseph shot back.

"Yes, yes, I suppose. But if it placates her, than I would just as soon let it be," Arrianna said. They sat in a companionable silence, before she spoke again.

"What if he finds us again? What if he comes after us?"

Joseph immediately knew whom she was speaking of.

"I sure hope he doesn't," was all he said in response.

*********

A knock was rapped on the door of Signora Flora's room.

"Come in," she answered.

He found her laying on her bed with her hand resting upon her forehead, looking extremely tired. She peeked though the lids of her eyes to look upon her visitor.

"Alfonso, have you brought my pills?" She asked upon closing her eyes again.

"Of course, signora. I know how much trouble you've been having sleeping."

"Yes, Charles's death did have quite the effect on me."

Alfonso wordlessly gave her the sleeping pills, and she took them, washing them down with the water from the glass he had brought.

"Pardona?" Alfonso ventured after the long, stretching silence.

"Mmmn hmm?"

"Have you ever considered ... a will?"

The widow cracked open one eye.

"Pardon?"

"Well, if you were to die, for some reason, not to say that you will, but if you did, how would anyone know whom to leave your possessions to without a will?"

She closed her eye again. "No, I have not considered a will, though I suppose it would be a good idea. What if I were to die? Where would everything go? Yes, Alfonso, good friend, I will consider it."

"I am glad to have been of service," the manservant answered, humbly.

"Thank you. Now, if that is all, I need my rest now."

"Yes, yes, Signora. Sweet dreams."

And with that, he left the room, and Signora Flora drifted off into her dreamless sleep.

*********

During the next few weeks, a pattern was formed, and the twins became comfortable in Venice. Their Aunt Flora took them out to see the sights, and gave them a tour of their beautiful surroundings. They saw the theatre, and went to museums featuring paintings and various works of arts, and floated on the canals in the afternoon. Their aunt took them out to many fancy resturants that served delicious Italian food. The twins soon forgot all about their evil stalker, and let down their guard in the beauty of their new home. Though their's guardian's paranoia made things a bit strange, they learned to get used to the new changes.

Though they spent much time with their new guardian, they never saw much of her manservant, Alfonso. They would occasionally see a flash of white hair or see a streak of a black suit, or maybe even hear his footsteps on the staircase, but nothing more.

One day, when they were schedueled to go out to see the city once more, their aunt did not come out to have breakfast with them. When she did not come out, they visited her after cooking their own breakfast. Once they opened the door to her rooms, they found the lights off, and their aunt was still lying in her bed.

"Aunt Flora?"

"Ah, I do not feel well today, bambinis. I do not think we can go today, as I have a terrible migraine."

"Oh. I hope you feel better then," Arrianna finally answered.

"Yes, I hope you get well soon," Joseph said.

"I am sorry. Maybe I can take you out tomorrow."

"Yes, maybe. Goodbye."

And the door was closed once more.

*********

Later, the door to the Signora's door opened again, and Alfonso reappeared.

"I have brought your pills, signora," he told her.

"Thank you Alfonso, your help has been invaluable to me," she praised the manservant, taking the painkillers.

"Yes. How is the will coming along, if I may ask?"

"I finished just yesterday," she told him.

"Good, good. Are you happy with your work?"

"It is good enough. I now feel that my possessions will be put in the right care."

"It is wonderful to know that I was able to help, signora." He presses two more pills into her hand.

"What is this?" The Signora inquires. She tries to look at them, but cannot see them in the scarce light.

"These are your sleeping pills, pardona." He answers, handing her the glass of water once more. "You need to rest."

"Ah, Alfonso. Thank you, old friend. Always one step ahead, you are," she said, swallowing the pills.

"It pays to think ahead, signora," he said, leaving.

"Good day, Alfonso," she told him, drifting to sleep.

"Good day."

*********

The twins did find something to do in the house, eventually. Since they had arrived to Italy, they had explored the city but barely knew the house where they stayed at.

So, while their guardian rested, they explored every nook and cranny of the villa. When dinnertime came, they found their way back to the main floor, to find that their aunt was not their. Figuring that she was still in bed, they found the makings to cook their own dinner. They went to bed early that night.

The next day, they woke up and got dressed, anticipating a newer, more exciting day, despite the rainy weather outside. They went downstairs, to find that their aunt was not there, again. Hoping that she wasn't still sick in bed, they went to her rooms to check.

The room was dark, and there was no sign of life in the bedroom. A dark form was noticed on the bed. It was a person, they realized, upon going closer. It was their aunt, but she wasn't making any movement.

"Aunt Flora?" Arrianna whispered, tentatively touching her hand. To her horror, it was cold and stiff. She recoiled at the touch.

The two heard a dark, cold, raspy chuckle from the doorway. They spun around to see the outline of a tall figure dressed in a suit. It must be Alfonso, the manservant.

"Mister Alfonso, is that you? Our aunt Flora, she's ..." The words died in her throat as he stepped closer, the outline of his features becoming a bit more clear. The familiarity she felt was unnerving; she felt that she had seen those features before, but where?

"Ah, yes, children. I know exactly what has happened," the man rasped.

Suddenly, everything was horribly, utterly clear.

"Count Vanir," Joseph whimpered, trying to sound brave, but failing. "What have you done to her?"

Their worse dreams had come true; and Count Vanir had come back for them.

*********


	6. Her Last Will and Testament

_**A/N: Oh, wow, did I really not put this chapter up? I must have forgotten to do it after all my documents got deleted, and I had to recover them all … so sorry to all my waiting readers. Chapter Six should be finished within the next two months. Wow, this had a lot of typos … Thank God for spell check.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own A Series of Unfortunate Events.**_

They were frozen in place as Count Vanir advanced toward them.

"What have you done to her?" Joseph repeated, his voice tremulous.

Their former guardian let out one of his sinister, throaty laughs. "Why, I put her to sleep of course! Though this is a nap that she won't ever be waking up from, brats."

"Why have you followed us here? You don't have control over us anymore." Arrianna tried to sound brave, but it was hard to do, knowing that the evil man in front of her had just killed her aunt.

"I told you, children, that I will have your fortune, and I'm not about to give up easily," Count Vanir explained impatiently. "And anyway, you will be back in my care soon enough. It is only a matter of time before I will be rich, and you will be very, very hard to find."

"What is it that you have in mind?" Arrianna asked, apprehensive. "Whatever it is, I'm sure that it's not at all legal."

He laughed again. "Oh, it will be perfectly legal," he told them. "Or, at least, the first part will."

"What's going to happen?" Joseph asked. "What is your plan this time around?"

"Oh, you shall know soon enough. In the mean time, do not worry yourselves, brats. I'm sure that everything will be just fine."

The evil man let out yet another laugh, and whatever his plan was, Arrianna and Joseph were sure that it would be horrible.

Two weeks later, the twins were at their Aunt Flora's funeral. It was raining once more, and they felt quite dismal as their deceased guardian was lowered into the ground, enclosed in a wooden coffin. They felt even worse as Count Vanir, disguised at Alfonso, squeezed the bony fingers encircling their wrists in a highly uncomfortable fashion, to ensure that they didn't go anywhere.

The last two weeks had been very hectic. The paramedics had been called soon after, and it had been confirmed that their guardian was, in fact, dead. They could find no reason for death, except the deadly poison in her bloodstream. They could not explain exactly how it had made itself there, but Arrianna and Joseph knew.

Then, Ms. Shingleheemer had been contacted and informed of the incident, and had had to come immediately. They had not had the time to tell her about the manservant's true identity, however. Every spare minute had been filled with hasty plans for the funeral.

Now, as most everyone in the gathered crowd went up to pay their respects and say something about Signora Elisabeth Flora, and how she had been alive.

Count Vanir finally let Arrianna and Joseph's wrists go, letting back in some of the cut circulation. He bent down to whisper in their ears, "Do not go anywhere."

As if they had anywhere to go.

He made his way to the front of the crowd, and walked over to where Aunt Flora had been buried. He cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Signora Flora was a good woman. She always put others before herself, and valued the small things in life. She believed that everything had a purpose. None of us are sure how she died, but I believe I speak for all of us when I say that she will be greatly missed. Though Signora Flora has died, she will forever live in our hearts."

The evil man paused periodically to let the crowd murmur in agreement.

"Now, I would be honored to present to you the last will and testament of this wonderful woman. Though it was a sad day when this poor woman died, she had left us this will, that she had finished only a little while before she died.

"She writes here, 'One day I know I will die. I am not completely sure how long I have before this day will come, but when it does, I want everyone to have me in their hearts. If and when I am deceased, and have been lowered back into the ground, I would want my possessions to be given to my various friends and loved ones as follows:

"I would want Helsetica, my sister, to have all of my chinaware. When you use these, dear sister, remember me.

"One third of my money and all my clothes I would like to be donated to a reliable charity. I have no need of this in the grave.

"All the valuable trinkets in my collection, this belongs to my nephew, William Sharp. I know that you have always taken an avid interest in these, and though I regret that I cannot live to see you grow to use it, I want you to remember me, and add faithfully to this collection.

"To all of my other family members, I would want to leave you all with two thousand dollars each. Do with this money what you will, but remember me, dear ones.

"To my good friend, Mellanie Derthy, I want you to have my literature collection. I know of your great joy in books, and I want you to enjoy these just as I have.

"To my orphaned neice and nephew, Arrianna and Joseph, I want you always remember the time we spent together. There is nothing as valuable as this, and I hope that you will always remember how much fun we had.

"My house, and all the rest that I posses I want my faithful manservant to have, for he has been good to me as I have lived. I would also like to pass on my neice and nephew, Arrianna and Joseph Cunningham, onto him. I do this because I will not know where they will go when I expire, and I trust that they will be completely safe in the hands of my manservant, who has served me well already.

"This is my last will and testament. I know that none of us want the day to come when I have to leave this earth, but it must. If I have given you nothing, to not take it to heart, dear ones. There is nothing valuable enough that I have to give you that could possible represent all the time I have spent, with any of you. I want my name to always be in your hearts, until the day you yourself might die. Do not be afraid to spread the name of Signora Elisabeth Flora, and as I say farewell, note that I hope that this is not the last time we will meet.'"

All was quiet for a few moments. Then, Ms. Shingleheemer pushed her way to the front of the crowd, toward the faux manservant.

"Pardon me, sir, but I cannot hand over these children without a look at that," she declared. The twins let out a breath that neither of them had known they had been holding.

Their executor snatched the will out of Count Vanir's hands, and looked over it.

"Does anyone have another copy of this woman's signature?" She asked, looking up after a moment.

"Right here, Signora," a tall, thin man near the front volunteered, holding up another piece of paper. What especially distinguished him, it could be noticed, was his bald dome and long, beak - like nose. It happened to be two traits that Arrianna and Joseph paid attention to most of all, however.

Ms. Shingleheemer looked at both signatures, paying attention to the similarities in penmanship, noticing the curves and lines. She finally handed the paper back to the man.

"Though the character of this man is quite questionable," Ms. Shingleheemer said, "I suppose I must trust in the decisions of Mrs. Elisabeth Flora, and respect one of her last wishes.

"More questionable than you realize," Arrianna muttered under her breath during the pause.

"But you can't!" Joseph protested. "You are our executor, and now that our aunt has passed away, you're put back in charge of us. You can't just hand us over to some random manservant!"

Ms. Shingleheemer's star was cold and hard. "First, as your executor, I have the right to make the decisions, and I can and will do what the will has said. Second, Mr. Alfonso, as you know, is not just some random manservant, but a close friend that your former guardian had put her trust in. Therefore, you will be in his care until former notice at the least."

"But-" Joseph tried to protest, but was once more met with her cold stare.

"No protesting," The lady insisted.

Joseph hung his head, defeated. "Very well, Ms. Shingleheemer."

And the deal was made.

_"_And what are _you _all mad about?" Arrianna asked later, after they had been taken back to the chalet.

"You simply stood there! You could have at least helped me try to get out of this, Arrianna. Now it's too late, and we have to find another way out again!"

"It was too late when Count Vanir killed her," she argued. "I already knew that it was futile to get out of this, Joseph. Face it: Count Vanir is too slippery. Even if this particular plan hadn't worked out, he would have a better one thought up in an instant! The only way we can get out of his clutches is to only rely on ourselves and our own devices."

Joseph was quiet. "Do you really think that it'll work?" He finally asked.

"If we can do it once, we can surely do it again, brother."

"I suppose you're right," he finally relented.

"Of course I am," Arrianna said confidently. "We have to start investigating Aunt Flora's murder immediately. Whatever the others haven't found I'm sure Count Vanir is hiding. We have to find evidence, Joseph."

"Where do we start first?"

"First, we think this out. Now, how could he have killed her?"

"Poison of course."

"He didn't just hand her a vial of it and tell her to drink it. Count Vanir is more deceptive than that. For the time being, we have to think like detectives."

The twins were so busy trying to think out their conundrum that they didn't notice the muscled man that was one of Count Vanir's henchmen, hidden in the shadows. Count Vanir, being careful not to let the last time repeat itself, did not intend for the children to go unwatched, of course. When they were not looking toward the corner in which he lurked, he went off to alert Count Vanir.

He opened the door to what were now his boss's rooms. He waited to be acknowledged by the criminal, taking not of the room as he did so. Count Vanir was bent over a display of papers packed with very small, fine print, with his back to the door. He spoke without doing even as much as turn around.

"How are the brats faring?"

The henchman always did wonder how he always knew when someone was in the room.

"Fine, though they have decided to investigate the murder, sir."

Count Vanir chuckled.

"Bomkovi, if they really think that incriminating evidence is going to just be laying around, waiting for them, then they are even more naïve than they let on."

"Sir, I highly doubt that they'll give up as soon as you might think they will."

Count Vanir finally spun around in his chair to face the muscled man.

"I can assure you, Bomkovi, that I can be very, very sneaky. You yourself know of this. I am sneakier than anyone could ever fathom. If the brats want to play detective, then they'll soon learn the hard way that when they're playing with me, it's hard to win. Because as we all know, you don't going around winning by playing fair. Last time, they caught me off guard. I must admit, I thought that they would go down easy. But now, I know my opponent, and now the games can properly begin."

Bomkovi, the muscled man, bowed. "As you wish, Count Vanir. You are the boss, after all."

"Yes, and I am boss for a reason."

"And why must we endanger ourselves by doing this, again?" Joseph whispered as they tiptoed through their aunt's old rooms close to midnight. It really was a wonder that it hadn't been guarded. Or, at least, so far they knew.

"We have to find sufficient evidence pointing to Count Vanir as the culprit," Arrianna whispered back, peering at the depths of the dark room through the dim light of her lantern. "You go on that side, and I'll investigate this area."

Joseph made his way to the other side of the room, careful not to make any noise. Even though Count Vanir was on the other side of the chalet, you never knew who was watching. Arrianna turned to her side and started for the dresser.

"What sort of evidence?" Joseph whispered from across the room.

"Anything suspicious," Arrianna answered. "But make sure to handle it with the gloves."

Arrianna had insisted they carry gloves to prevent their fingerprints on any of the material. "If we're going to think like detectives," She had declared, "then we have to be just as careful."

Arrianna looked on top and upon finding nothing peeked in the drawers. The only things there were old clothes, and the will, which had been replaced. Having an idea she held up the light to the sides of the dresser, patting the smooth wood for secret compartments. "They always do that in the theatres," she muttered to herself.

She finally, to her surprise, came upon a rectangular slab of wood different than the others. She patted it to see if it was anything of importance. When she pushed one side, it spun ninety degrees, making a wedge -shaped hole, with part of the slab sticking out. Experimenting, she pushed it around all the way, the inside part of the wood on the outside. Looking closer, she discovered words engraved there.

"Joseph," she whispered, excited. "I think I found something!"

He made his way over and looked at the engravings. They read it out loud together:

"_'If you seek the last requests, look where the fire lies._'"

"Last requests?" Joseph inquired. "Could it possibly mean the will?"

"I'm not quite sure. I guess we'll have to look where 'the fire lies'."

The two both looked around for a place where the fire could lay. At that moment, the clouds moved away from the moon, and moonlight shone through the open windows. It was at this moment that Joseph spotted a piece of white in the fireplace. The fireplace!

"I think it means the fireplace, Arrianna," he said, moving toward the piece of white. He bent to pick it up from the ashes.

"_'Look for the secret compartment in the walls._'"

"Definitely more clear than the first," Arrianna said, looking over his shoulder. "Now all we have to do is find a secret compartment in the walls of the fireplace."

"How do you know it means the fireplace?"

Arrianna shrugged. "Well, the first note said to look where the fire lies. And, besides, the note was here. Might as well look here first and move on if we don't find anything."

Among the dark brown bricks of the fireplace, it wasn't very hard to find a slab of lighter brown. It was thinner and longer in length than the others, and when pulled out it was also discovered to be much lighter. It came out easily, proving that it was meant to be found.

It was metal on the inside, and there were a few pieces of paper hidden there.

"_'The Last Will and Testament of Elisabeth Flora'_," Arrianna read.

"So it _is _her will!"

Arrianna skimmed over the print and announced after a few moments, "It looks the same as the original."

Then she skipped to the last page.

"Come look at this, Joseph."

"'And lastly, I cannot give much to my neice and nephew, the Cunninghams,'" he read. "'All I can give them is my good wishes, and I can only hope that they find a good guardian to take care of them. This is my last will and testament.' So our aunt didn't really give us to her manservant, Alfonso!"

"Yes, but she did give him the house and all the rest of her possessions."

"But he faked the will," Joseph pointed out.

"Of course he did! And I know exactly why, too. And since it's still here, he must not know of this hidden copy."

"Then we'll just have to keep it that way … until the correct moment, of course."

And you are quite sure that they don't have any evidence?" Count Vanir asked once again of the muscled henchman who watched the children.

"No, sir. They do not."

Bomkovi didn't have to guts to tell him that he had let them out of his sights, if only for a few moments. You didn't like it when the boss was angry.

"They searched the rooms, but found nothing."

Count Vanir flashed a sinister smile.

"And I am still ahead in the game?"

"Of course."

Little did they know of what Arrianna and Joseph had managed to procure that evening...


End file.
